"You have less furniture than I do."
He pours vodka over ice and hands me the glass. "What's your name?"
"Call me Reggie." He watches me gulp at the vodka and laughs. "You'll be writing in no time."
"I wouldn't want that if I were you." I wink at him and pull his hand to bring him closer to me, a small squeal escaping my lips when he squeezes my thigh.
"You know what I want," he says, pulling me to my feet. I manage to put down my glass without spilling and pull a mobile from my jeans back pocket.
I type my name into the search engine and hand the phone to him. "Look at what they write about me and decide if you still want to fuck me."
He scans the screen and taps one of the results. A wave of nervous flutters tickle my spine and I wonder what he will say. I've never told a man before...
"You're a serial killer?" he says, but it sounds like a question.
"Yes," I answer, taking the phone. Kneeling in front of him, I place my hand on his stomach and trace a finger along the top of his jeans. "You still gonna give me something to write about, Reggie?"
He doesn't speak and I feel his body shiver when I pull at his zipper. A groan escapes his lips and I smile. He won't be able to resist me.
"What will you do to me?" I ask, yanking down his boxers to expose a small(ish) yet erect cock with a slight upward curve. "The rumors about black men don't apply to all black men, obviously."
"No?" he asks, gripping my face in his hands and guiding my lips onto his cock. "That makes it easier for you to swallow what I give you, then."
I let him fuck my mouth, relaxing to allow him to push it all the way into my throat. His balls mash into my chin and I can smell the musk of man and cologne. At that moment my phone buzzes with a new message. Reggie drops a hand from my cheek to hold up the screen for me to see.
I see Ray's name and push Reggie off me.
"That your man," he asks, stroking his cock while I type my code into the security box to unlock it.
"He will be," I answer, looking at the text message.
"We have twenty minutes," he says, turning my body and pushing my face down into the mattress.
His arm snakes around my belly and unsnaps my pants, pulling the jeans below my knees. Climbing on top of me, his arms wrap around my shoulders, locking me in a tight embrace. I feel his cock slip into me and his legs pin mine to the bed.
I try to pull my legs together, but he jams me again and again, in a steady rhythm. Minutes pass, the only sound his body smacking against mine.
"I'm gonna seed you," he says. My phone buzzes with an incoming call and Reggie frees one arm to retrieve it. He smiles at seeing the name on the screen and presses a button to answer the call.
Ray is going to hear him finish in me and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Sweat drips from his legs onto mine and I fight the urge to scream. I drift into my mind as Reggie groans out his pleasure.
His grunts can leave no doubt about what he is doing inside me. I wait for his spasms to stop before pushing him off me. Grabbing the phone, I push hair out of my face and take a deep breath.
"Are you still there?"
"A car is waiting for you at the gate," he says before ending the call. He didn't sound mad, but I can't imagine what he must be thinking.
I pull up my jeans and stand, feeling Reggie's cum leaking out of me. With a smile, I put my phone into a pocket.
"I'll see you soon." I say, walking to the door.
He follows without putting on pants. "You still owe me five minutes."
"Owe you five minutes? You're lucky to be alive."
Reply to that. I give him time, wanting to have a little fun.
"Why am I?" he asks.
Not quite what I thought he would say. "I'll tell you next time. You have five minutes."
I exit so he can't say another word, slamming the door behind me. Within a moment, I press the button to call George and walk towards the main gate.
"No need to visit my neighbor, George," I say.
"Why might that be, Ella? A change of plans?" George asks, voice calm and comforting.
"He is still alive, George."
"What's that you say? Alive? Did I hear you right, Ella?"
I don't know whether to laugh or be mad at him. Then I hear the sound of George chuckling and can't hold back, "Yes, he is alive. I didn't kill that man. Not yet, George."